


Merlin Duty

by injeong



Series: Merlin Duty: A Thrilling Saga of everyone in Camelot shipping Merthur [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crack, Everyone Loves Merlin (Merlin), Fluff, He only just realises everyone is in love with his manservant, M/M, Oblivious Arthur, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Knights (Merlin), Shit, and I mean everyone, and he's like, i might be too??, scullery maids, some noble from the other kingdom, stablehands - Freeform, the random guards and knights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injeong/pseuds/injeong
Summary: In which Arthur realises that his entire castle is in love with his manservant, which leads to some discoveries about his own feelings about Merlin too.Alternatively:Arthur: Okay, was anyone going to tell me that (my entire castle had organised a protection rota for my manservant Merlin) or was I just supposed to find out myself
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Duty: A Thrilling Saga of everyone in Camelot shipping Merthur [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886344
Comments: 51
Kudos: 947
Collections: best fanfics ive read





	Merlin Duty

So, apparently Arthur wasn't as aware of the things going on in his own castle as he thought. 

He was the king. The king, the one who ruled the land and protected the people and whose name was known by everyone. He ran the kingdom, for goodness' sake. He should know everything. 

And yet, apparently it had just never dawned on him that his entire castle was completely, irrevocably infatuated with his manservant. 

Now that he knew, it wasn't like his people were trying to hide it. It was embarrassingly obvious, in fact, how they seemed so smitten over him. Arthur would take a walk to the armoury, Merlin bounding along next to him as always, and the walk from his chambers down to the field only took a few minutes, and yet in that time Merlin had somehow gotten a honeyed pastry pressed into his hands by a blushing scullery maid, waved at and greeted at least fifteen guards on a first-name basis, stopped to pet a villager's dog and her puppies, and strangest of all, managed to make Lord Esmond, a visiting nobleman's son (who was frankly borderline rude with anyone else, including Arthur) smile at him. 

It was a miracle that Arthur still had some trouble believing. 

"How are you _doing_ this?" he asked incredulously. Merlin, who had crumbs all over his face from the half-finished pastry, blinked up at him innocently and said, "What?" 

Arthur shook his head, bewildered. "Never mind." 

He had known, of course, that Merlin was popular. He was just so ... friendly. Bright. Bubbly. Every time they were ambushed by bandits on a hunt, Arthur half-expected Merlin to start smiling and offering them food. He was a commoner, so the servants and the villagers from the lower town found it easy to talk to him, but he was also a member of the royal household and the manservant to the king, so it wasn't like he had never talked to a noble, either. But this ... this was giving Arthur a headache. 

"What is this?" Arthur demanded, shoving the piece of parchment in Gwaine's face. The knight looked back at him in confusion. 

"... what is what?" 

Dear goddess give him strength. 

" _This_!" yelled Arthur, shaking the parchment wildly. "Why did I come into the armoury to see every single one of my knights squashed in a small room, huddled around a piece of parchment titled "The Merlin Duty"?"

Realisation dawned on Gwaine's face, and he started grinning. Lancelot shuffled closer, poking Gwaine hard in the ribs before he could talk. 

"It's a ... rota, sire," he tried to explain. Arthur motioned for him to continue. 

"A Merlin rota," Lancelot corrected. At Arthur's confused expression, Lancelot went a little pink and mumbled, "The knights ... ah. We sort of ... um." 

His knight was _blushing_. If there was anything that would prove that Merlin had some sort of ungodly sort of influence over his men, this would be it. Lancelot, calm, rational, wise Lancelot, was blushing. 

"... what are you doing?" he said suspiciously, because at the time the evidence had suggested something _different_ and even though these were his men, if they were threatening the chastity and virtue of his manservant, he wouldn't hesitate. Gwaine's eyes widened. 

"No! It's nothing like that!" He scrambled for words, and Arthur raised an eyebrow. "It's not, we would never - it's just that, well, you know how Merlin always seems to ... get into trouble?" 

"A lot of trouble," Lancelot added helpfully. "Dangerous, life-threatening trouble."

Arthur thought back to all the times Merlin had been sentenced to death, convicted of treason, poisoned, kidnapped, injured, or otherwise found flailing in the middle of a battle he certainly shouldn't have been a part of. 

"I am aware," he said eventually. 

Gwaine looked relieved, and continued. "Well, we have a lot of knights, don't we? And okay, we have the occasional war with undead soldiers to protect the lives of everyone in the kingdom and all, but most of the time we don't really _do_ anything." 

Nodding enthusiastically, Lancelot gave Arthur a hopeful smile. "It was just an idea. A couple of knights wouldn't go amiss, and it would definitely stop Merlin from getting kidnapped as often." 

Arthur squinted at them disbelievingly. 

"You want to ... send the knights to stalk my manservant?" 

"To protect," Gwaine corrected. Lancelot agreed solemnly. 

"Nothing big," he confirmed gently. "Just eviscerating whoever might hurt him." 

" _Eviscerating_ -?"

Lancelot looked far to happy at the thought of eviscerating someone, and Arthur wondered vaguely if he should be concerned. 

Then he looked out of the window, out to the courtyard, where Merlin was chatting happily with the baker and his infant son, and decided that if someone were to hurt his manservant, he would probably try and eviscerate them, too. 

He only realised later how sentimental that sounded, and rolled over, mumbling curses into his pillow. Merlin, who had been bustling around loudly cleaning his chambers, paused and looked over in concern. 

"Something wrong?" 

Arthur muttered something along the lines of " _Fuck off this is all your fault_ " and fell asleep. 

  
Now that Arthur knew the unhealthy obsession his knights had with his servant, he spent the next day on the lookout, fruitlessly hoping that maybe it had been a prank (and Gwaine and Lancelot were practically Merlin's closest friends - after Arthur, of course, no matter how much he denies it - so of course they would be more protective than most.) Naturally, he got proven wrong at every single turn. 

He hadn't even gotten out of bed that morning when he heard Merlin's cheerful voice outside his door.

"Sir Aldwin! It's been forever, I thought you were only meant to be on the outpost for a week?" 

Someone - one of the guards outside his door - chuckled in reply. 

"Cabdy took ill," his voice said, floating through the door to reach Arthur's (annoyed) ears. "There was no-one else, so I stayed a few days longer." 

Merlin made a sympathetic noise. "Is he okay? He didn't come to Gaius, did he? Should I go make something for him? Illness in the summer can be horrible." 

Another laugh, and it was bizarre, because Arthur can't even remember the last time he heard a guard speak. They were the silent, invisible protectors of Camelot's residents, and half the time he pretty much forgot they were there at all. "No, he's fine now. I'll tell him you offered, though." 

Then Merlin started diving into mindless chatter and Arthur had enough. Throwing off his covers, he stomped towards the door and yanked it open, glaring at the men outside. Merlin was still balancing his breakfast in one hand - and was that one of _his_ sausages he was nibbling on? - and jumped at the noise, catching Arthur's gaze and wilting ever so slightly. 

"Oh," he said. "Um. Arthur. Hi." 

"Is there any particular reason," said Arthur slowly, "Why you have decided that the king's breakfast and the abysmal state of his chambers was less important than chatting with the guard?" 

Merlin at least had the decency to look a little abashed. 

"Sorry," he said, but before he could say anything else, the two guards next to him started babbling, talking over each other so fast coming to Merlin's defence that Arthur couldn't make out a word they were saying. 

Okay. Arthur could have worked with that. Maybe it had just been a coincidence, the fact that it just so happened that Merlin was friends with the two guards outside his door that day. It would be silly of him to immediately jump to the conclusion that Merlin was friends with every single guard in the entire bloody castle, wouldn't it? 

Apparently not. 

"What is it with you guards?" Arthur sighed, exasperated, and the small group of guards in front of him shuffled nervously on their feet and shot wary glances at each other. "This can't be normal. Did you all accidentally drink a love potion or something?" 

One of the younger guards (Sir Rowley, or something, Arthur remembered) tentatively raised a hand. 

"We're just doing our duty, sire," he said meekly. "P-protecting the people?" 

"Admittedly," an older guard added, "Merlin might be a special case, my lord." 

"Oh, he's special, all right," said another, with a _dreamy look in his eyes_ , and Arthur fought the urge to take his sword out of its scabbard and hit him over the head with it. 

"I don't get it," he said instead. "I mean, alright, he's funny and he's smart, and he's a good friend - _if any of you tell him that I said this, I will put you on the executioner's block_ \- but I have discovered recently that my knights and my guards are worryingly obsessed." He looked at them suspiciously. "Wait. _You_ don't have a - a Merlin Duty, do you?" 

One of the guards snorted. "No, sire," he replied, looking both amused and disappointed at the same time. "Your Round Table knights are hogging it. We can't get a slot." 

"You can't get a - good god." Arthur felt a migraine coming on, and he ran a hand through his hair. "What is it that you do, then? Other than taking up Merlin's time by chatting with him while he's supposed to be working?" 

Another guard - Sir Darren? - actually glowered at him. Arthur stared. "You do give him a lot of work, sire," he mumbled. So now his own knights and guards were choosing to favour Merlin over their King. If Merlin wasn't such a bumbling idiot who didn't even know how to spend his own wages, Arthur would probably have been worried about an uprising. 

"We do help in other ways, sire," the young guard piped up. "Merlin - I mean, the servants - they don't really have anyone looking out for them, not like the nobles do. We can't defend them in the same way we have to defend the nobles, but we can give them a hand in ... other ways." 

Blanching, Arthur turned to face him. "What have you been doing?" 

There were all sorts of horrible images flashing through his head. He really hoped his guards weren't doing anything that would warrant an execution. (On the other hand, it had been a while since Arthur had sat down with a group of his guards and just talked. It did feel nice, knowing that his men trusted him enough to confide in him.)

Sir Rowley brightened. "Well, we're meant to be invisible, right? Nobody notices the guards, which means nobody really thinks to blame us if an _unfortunate_ _accident_ happens to take place in our vicinity."

Nodding enthusiastically, Sir Darren grinned. "And if that nasty visiting lord who yelled at Merlin just ... _happened_ to somehow cut his belt open on my spear and dropped his trousers in the hallway, well - that's just one hell of a coincidence, isn't it?"

Arthur stared at his happily talking guards and felt faintly concerned. 

  
The guards, Arthur mused on his way back, at least made sense. They followed the Knight's Code, of honour and chivalry and a duty to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. The servants, and especially Merlin, fell very neatly into that category. 

Unfortunately, the kitchen staff did _not_ follow a Knight's Code, and they still took it upon themselves to act as Merlin's Private Protection Army. 

Arthur poked his head into the kitchen one day (Merlin had turned up late to breakfast, then hadn't turned up to lunch at all, and Arthur wasn't _worried_ , he was just annoyed and curious to what kind of distraction Merlin had fallen for this time) and to his ~~relief~~ annoyance, he spotted his manservant, safe and happy and _not doing his_ _job_. Although, upon further inspection, Arthur realised that Merlin was actually trying to escape the kitchen, Arthur's lunch balanced on one hand and a flagon of wine in the other, but he was being ... mobbed by the kitchen staff? 

"Eat one more honey cake, sweetie," a scullery maid wheedled, pushing a tasty-looking pastry towards Merlin's face. Merlin squirmed away from her hand, mumbling something about needing to do serve the King his lunch, but was stopped by a giggling group of cooks. "He gives you too much to do, you're looking so thin, how about you sit down and we'll make you something nice and hot to eat?" 

Ignoring the flash of indignation (he didn't give Merlin that many chores, Merlin was just slow and had a habit of getting into trouble when he wasn't distracted by work, that was all), Arthur moved closer, peering through the open doorway. Somehow, the scullery boys had manhandled Merlin into a chair and the cooks were attempting to force feed him all sorts of snacks that looked less like servant food and more like the food Arthur had during feasts with visiting noblemen. 

Merlin, trying in vain to escape, caught Arthur's eye and mouthed, _Help me._

Arthur grinned at him, and purposely pretended not to notice him for another few minutes before relenting, and loudly clearing his throat. The kitchen staff froze comically. 

"Has anyone seen my manservant?" he said regally. "He was supposed to bring me my lunch twenty minutes ago." 

Merlin gave him a relieved smile. 

"Are you going to explain to me what the hell all that was?" said Arthur afterwards, and Merlin just grinned bashfully. 

"They like me," he said. "They probably think you starve and overwork me, or something." 

Insulted, Arthur glared at him. "I do not _abuse_ my servants." 

"I mean, you did dislocate my shoulder that one time during training -" 

"That was an accident! And I apologised!" 

"Hitting me on the other shoulder is not apologising!" 

  
So far, Arthur had uncovered the odd influence of Merlin on his knights and on the kitchen staff. Which still sort of made sense - the knights and their honour, and the kitchen staff were made up mostly of young girls and working mothers, and it was natural that a small, scrawny servant like Merlin would trigger their Mother Hen response. 

The stablehands, though ...

The stablehands, if anything, had a reputation for bullying the servants in the castle. Arthur had certainly ended up using his authority to break up more than one tussle in the stables (he had even participated in a few in his youth), and along the way he had ended up viewing the stablehands as a rather violent group of servants. They were the last people he had expected to be so protective over Merlin. 

Arthur had been watching the lower town from his bedroom window when the riot broke out. A small, familiar figure with a red neckerchief and brown jacket was hanging around one of the stalls, seemingly arguing with the shopkeeper. Merlin was gesturing patiently, while the shopkeeper was red in the face and appeared to be yelling. Slightly concerned, Arthur had wondered whether he should bother walking all the way down to the lower town to drag his manservant out of trouble, when the shopkeeper picked up a nearby pot and threw it at Merlin. 

Merlin raised his arms in an attempt to protect his face, but the force of the clay pot shattering against his hands knocked him backwards onto the ground. In a flash, Arthur was on his feet, and it would have taken a stupidly long time to get down there but he was going to have _words_ with that shopkeeper for assaulting his manservant -

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, a mass of young men were swarming over the marketplace, and making a beeline straight for the shopkeeper's stall. Watching in bewilderment, it took Arthur a few seconds to recognise them as the stablehands, and they looked _angry_. They clustered noisily around Merlin, five of them tugging him back to his feet and dusting him off, while the rest of them rapidly surrounded the angry shopkeeper, horse-whips and brooms and rakes held threateningly in the air. 

Arthur had ended up going all the way down there anyway, just to stop the stablehands from starting an all-out brawl. 

"Since when did you attack random shopkeepers?" he asked them in confusion. One of the stablehands threw the shopkeeper, now being dragged away by a guard, a dirty look. 

"Since they attack innocent people just looking to run an errand, sire," he said. Arthur raised an eyebrow. 

"Seriously," another stablehand added cheerfully, "Have you seen the way Lebryt acts around the rest of us? Merlin's the only one who can come close enough to put the saddle on, if anything happens to him then we're all going to die." 

Lebryt, Arthur's prized stallion, did have a rather aggressive temperament. Arthur had owned him since he was a foal, and Lebryt had only just stopped trying to bite his fingers off every time he approached. On the other hand, Merlin had taken immediately to the animal, and Lebryt turned into an affectionate, loving pony around him. Arthur never did figure out how. 

Merlin just shrugged helplessly, batting away one of the stableboy's hands as he tried once again to brush the dust and dirt off his jacket. 

"I'm seriously wondering if you accidentally put a spell on my entire castle," said Arthur one day, completely missing the way Merlin's eyes widened comically at his words. "How did you manage to somehow do enough favours for the entire servant population for them to owe at least three life debts each to you? Is that why you're always so late with my lunch?" 

"I just try to be helpful, sire," Merlin squeaked. Arthur gave him a strange look. 

  
To Arthur's despair, he eventually found out that it wasn't even his entire castle. Even the visiting lords and ladies from the other kingdoms somehow managed to immediately fall under Merlin's spell as soon as they arrived. 

On the first feast - the very first feast - Lord Alexander had leaned over the table and asked Arthur under his breath what the name of his manservant was. 

"He's very attractive, isn't he?" he had said, and Arthur had choked on his wine. Annoyingly, Lord Alexander didn't even seem lewd or otherwise malicious with his words. He had said it simply, admiringly, and Arthur spent the rest of the feast going red every time Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. 

Arthur had hoped that was the end of it. 

Naturally, it wasn't, and only a few hours after the feast, he had wandered into the castle gardens in search for his manservant to find him laughing at something Lord Alexander had said. The two of them were sitting on the grass next to the flower bushes, sitting rather too close for a neighbouring Lord and a castle servant to be sitting, and they were chatting like old friends. 

It irritated Arthur to no end. 

Arthur had almost hoped that something bad would happen (because something bad always happened during visits from neighbouring kingdoms) and that Lord Alexander would be revealed to be an evil sorcerer or some other malicious magic creature, because then his manservant would stop spending so much time with him. Arthur wasn't jealous, it was just so ... strange, and almost uncomfortable, to see the way Merlin effortlessly wormed his way into the hearts of everyone he met. (Including him.) 

Unfortunately, nothing bad did happen, and Lord Alexander left with a newly signed treaty and a strengthened friendship between two kingdoms. He even had the nerve to ask Arthur about this rumoured "Merlin Rota" that he had heard about.

"There wouldn't be a chance of me being able to help with that, would there?" he had said, eyes sparkling. "I don't think I would mind giving Merlin a helping hand if he ever chose to visit our lands with you." 

"No," Arthur told him flatly. 

He had been relieved when Lord Alexander left. Merlin waved to him as he rode away, and to Arthur's irritation, Lord Alexander waved back and winked. 

"Good riddance," he muttered under his breath. Merlin turned a hurt gaze upon him.

"What do you mean? Alex was lovely!" 

" _Alex_?" 

It had turned out that Lord Alexander had given Merlin a "parting gift" of a new winter cloak. Admittedly, it was a beautiful thing, not too decorated (Merlin still was a servant, after all) but warm and soft, a cool shade of sapphire blue with a delicately forged clasp with a hint of gold. 

"He said it matched my eyes!" Merlin said brightly. Arthur turned away and wondered why on earth the temperature of the room had seemed to skyrocket. 

"You know, this Lord Alexander seemed very ... interested in you, Merlin." 

At his words, Merlin blushed faintly. "Well. He did ask to court me." 

"He _what_?" Arthur jumped to his feet, his blood starting to boil again, and Merlin shoved him back down into his chair. 

"I said no, obviously, don't worry. Although he was very sweet, and he didn't care for social boundaries or wealth or power - his people are so lucky to have someone like him - but, yeah. I told him I loved someone else, already." 

An awkward silence fell over them, and Arthur cleared his throat. 

"Do you? Love someone else, I mean." 

He was hoping for something. He wasn't sure what he was hoping for, but his blood was rushing through his head, his heart thrumming in anticipation. 

Merlin turned his gaze to him, eyes bright and clear and soft. 

"Yes." 

"Care to elaborate?" 

Making a small, thoughtful noise, Merlin drifted closer. "Well. I've known this person for a long time - almost from the moment I came to Camelot. We didn't really get off to a good start, but we became friends very quickly, and I like to think that we trust each other. We've fought a lot of battles together, and we always somehow managed to get out of both of them alive - barely, sometimes. I trust them with my life." 

The world seemed to shrink, until it was just the sunlight on the table and Arthur and Merlin. 

"He's a good person, at heart," Merlin continued quietly. "He has a duty he was born into, and it wears him down sometimes, but he never abandons his people, and he would fight for them with his dying breath. He's loyal and trusting and brave - even though he is a prat, sometimes - and he sees the good in people, more than I can." 

Merlin looked at him, nervous, hopeful. 

"What is this person's name, then?" said Arthur, his voice barely audible over the silence. Merlin smiled. 

"Let me think ... hm. I think his name was something like Arthur Pendragon?" 


End file.
